


Until the Dawn Comes

by DrimmsyDra



Series: Hold Me Until the Dawn Comes [3]
Category: The A-Team (TV)
Genre: Flashbacks, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Major Character Injury, Memory Loss, Minor Character Death, Nightmares, Travel, Vietnam War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:48:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26843149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrimmsyDra/pseuds/DrimmsyDra
Summary: The third part of my story Hold Me Until the Dawn Comes; we finally got to the present and the main storyline.Murdock tries to live with the knowledge that Face is and will always be just a friend. But he can't suppress his love for him.Face discovers that Murdock's presence raises some feelings in him that he shouldn't feel. Can he understand in time what those feelings mean?There is a long journey ahead of them. Will they find a way to each other?
Relationships: H. M. "Howling Mad" Murdock/Templeton "Faceman" Peck
Series: Hold Me Until the Dawn Comes [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1481600
Comments: 13
Kudos: 37





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The story takes place sometime after the episode Wheel of Fortune and before the episode The A-Team Is Coming, the A-Team Is Coming. Face is still upset that Murdock didn't take him to Hawaii with him. However, that's not the only thing that makes Face mad at Murdock.
> 
> Warning: some parts may be difficult to read; war flashbacks, violence, Murdock's emotions and madness

**_From Capt. HM Murdock's diary_ **

_I can hear quiet breaths again,_

_creeping up the stairs;_

_I don't think I can stay alone._

_Screaming and whining,_

_I run away from the shadows,_

_pounding on the walls around us without stopping..._

_You know,_

_it's closer again_

_and it will get through the window bars._

_It's my dark madness._

_You know my past,_

_so watch over me_

_until the dawn comes._

_After a night in this room_

_I'm frozen stiff,_

_confused and trapped in the catcher of my dreams._

_So hold my hand tightly_

_when I struggle through the darkness,_

_show me the way here, get me back._

_You know,_

_it's closer again,_

_and it will get through the window bars._

_It's my dark madness._

_You know my past,_

_so watch over me_

_until the dawn comes._

_You know._

_You're my anchor, you're my shield,_

_when I'm numb with cold_

_and my mind is swallowed by shadow._

_When the dogs of war roar again,_

_please, keep holding my hand._

_Everything goes up in smoke._

_When it's closer again,_

_getting through the window bars_

_it's my dark madness._

_You know my past,_

_so watch over me_

_until the dawn comes._


	2. Chapter 2

Los Angeles, 1985

I hit the ground. The unexpected, hard landing knocked the wind out of me, and I felt the gravel from the street dig into my palms. The left side of my face burned like hell after the punch I had just received. It hurt. But knowing that my best friend had knocked me to the ground hurt much more. He was the one whose help, support and understanding I could rely on and whom I trusted. Someone who always held me when I was scared or desperate; who led me through the darkness of my life. Someone I had loved for years…

I looked up, saw the shock written on his face from what he had just done. He shifted his weight nervously, and after a brief hesitation he held out his hand offering me help.

I felt one of the sharp stones dig between my ribs as I moved. With a hiss, I turned away from him to get up, as painlessly as possible. And when I glanced at him again, the helping hand was gone. He held it pressed to his stomach, stroked the delicate fabric of his expensive shirt automatically. So I picked myself up slowly. In an effort to be as far away from him as possible, I pressed my back against the wall of the house behind me. But I couldn't stop staring into his eyes. I could read embarrassment there. Guilt. Regret. But also anger, and worst of all, a silent but very clear reproach.

He reached out again, taking a few steps towards me, but I pressed against the wall even more.

"Stay away from me!" I yelled at him. "Stay where you are! I… I don't want this!"

He stopped, disconcerted; and his blue eyes turned to pieces of ice in a heartbeat.

"And you think I wanted you to become a traitor? What did you think, Murdock?"

"I'm not a traitor! I wanted to protect you! It was all for your own good, Face!"

"So for my own good, huh? How do you even know what's good for me? You know, I always thought you were on my side, but you-"

"I am on your side!"

"Oh, sure. As soon as I let you out of my sight, you turn your back on me!"

My hands hidden in my pants pockets clenched into fists. That hurt. It hurt more than he could have imagined. I took a breath, pulled one hand out of the pocket, and rubbed my burning face.

"I didn't want her to hurt you again. I thought if you didn't see her, if you never met her again in your life, it would be better for you. You told me yourself when I asked you. And I asked, remember? I wasn't talking about me, it was about you. I wanted to know what you would do if someone hurt you, and then reappeared in your life. And you said you wouldn't want to see the person. That's what I was going on! I was just doing what you told me to do! I protected you!"

"I thought we were talking about you!"

"And what's the difference? Are the rules different for you than for me? How do I know what's right and what's wrong then? I thought you were advising me at your best discretion!"

"You aren't me! You're-"

"Crazy? Is that what you meant?"

"Different! You are different."

"How different? You mean that I can't cope with my problems and have to hide myself from them? So I'm not supposed to see a person who hurt me, while you're strong enough to march in front of the woman who broke your heart years ago, made you leave college and join the army? The woman who made you never really love anyone else 'cause you're afraid that someone could hurt you again? Don't you remember how bad you felt when she showed up in your life again? I didn't give you the message she left here 'cause I didn't want to see you like that again!"

"How can you say that, Murdock! How can you-"

"I can't! Get away from me, I'm not strong enough to see people who hurt me!" I turned, walked away from him quickly. My eyes burned uncomfortably, tears threatened to spill over.

"Murdock, wait! I never said that!"

I pretended not to hear him. I didn't want to argue with him. Didn't want to scream at him or hear him yell at me. I hated fighting with him. BA and I could shout ourselves hoarse at each other and I didn't mind 'cause it was always a game. 'Cause I knew the Big Guy never meant it. Or at least I thought he didn't. But Face… it hurt to fight with him. It hurt so bad.

He called my name again, but I didn't turn to him. Instead, I turned the corner of the house, ran across the parking lot, and jumped into BA's van which was waiting there quietly. I slammed the door shut behind me.

"Problem, Captain?"

Hannibal looked up from the newspaper he had been reading.

"I wanna go home!"

The Colonel just raised an eyebrow, but BA turned sharply, giving me a piercing look.

"I ain't goin' to drive you from one place to another and back, fool. You wanna go here and in half an hour you wanna go there. Take a cab, man."

"Easy, BA." Hannibal put a hand on BA's arm to calm his temper. "Murdock, what's going on? I thought you were looking forward to the weekend outside the VA. You wanted to go to the fair with Face, didn't you?"

I crossed my arms over my chest, and with bowed head, I said firmly, "I wanna go to the VA. We're done here, so I should be back anyway."

Hannibal fished a cigar out of his pocket, took a breath, but before he could speak something in his peripheral vision caught his attention. He looked out the window, watching in silence as Face got in his Vette two parking spaces away and disappeared in the smoke of his squealing tires. Hannibal looked back at me questioningly, but I turned my head away.

"BA, go to Murdock's hospital," he finally said.

"Hannibal, don't get him used to it. If that fool starts to think I'm gonna dance to his tune, then he…"

The Colonel sqeezed BA's shoulder, silencing him. BA just shook his head, muttered something quietly, and started the van.

I settled more comfortably, rubbed my face again. It didn't burn anymore. I'd suffered worse in my life, anyway. Some wounds took several weeks to heal up. This was just a tickle. Yet it had hurt the most in recent years.

I sensed Hannibal was watching me. You gotta get used to that sharp, inquisitive look when you wanna work in Colonel Smith's unit. Usually he doesn't miss anything, tries very hard to see and know everything. He examines you, explores you‚ observes you, and compares your every move and gesture with his mental databank. He's very good at it. Sometimes too good.

I closed my eyes, rested my head on the backrest. It was clear I couldn't fool him. He knew very well that I wasn't asleep. But he got it, asking no more questions. Just smoked his cigar thoughtfully, ignoring BA's frowning glances visible in the rearview mirror.

They both knew it. They knew something had happened. But neither of them asked me any more. I really didn't want to talk about it. I didn't even want to think about it. I wanted to forget.


	3. Chapter 3

"Leslie?" Face couldn't say anything more. Just hearing her voice in the receiver turned his body into jelly. He leaned heavily against the back of the seat in his Corvette and closed his eyes, imagining her holding a telephone receiver; her lips almost touching the inanimate plastic, her beautiful, thick hair covered by a nun's veil. He had to admit that he was shocked to see her in a nun's habit. When she broke up with him, they told him she had found someone else. And she had, really. Was it possible to steal God's girl? To compete with Him?

"Templeton?" The voice on the other end hesitated.

"Yeah, it's me. I just… Leslie, what were you doing in LA?"

"Did Murdock give you my message? I couldn't find anyone else from your team and you weren't in town."

"He did." Face grimaced. "More or less."

It had taken Murdock over two weeks to tell him about Leslie. And it was too late, she was back in Ecuador. For once, he understood BA's constant need to grab their pilot and throttle him.

"I'm so sorry, Templeton. But maybe it's better that we didn't meet at all. I was… I was very confused."

"Leslie, what happened?"

"I had… uhm… it could probably be called a mid-life crisis." She laughed nervously. "Sounds crazy, doesn't it?"

"Well, everyone has a weak moment sometimes," he admitted, wondering what his ex-girlfriend was trying to say.

"You know, it started when a pregnant girl came to our orphanage. She was starting to give birth, needed help desperately, and God brought her to us. She didn't want the baby at first, but when we showed her that little breathing marvel, she began to cry and eventually took the boy with her. And I had to wonder if… you know if I made the right decision then at school." There was silence for a while. Unsure that he might have lost the connection, Face spoke softly.

"Leslie?"

"I'm here. I'm just… thinking. I shouldn't bother you at all. I'm sorry."

"No, you're not bothering me. Why…" He had to clear his throat. "Why did you decide to find me? You wanted… do you want to…" He didn't know how to finish his question, being afraid of the answer that might come. The answer which probably had to come.

"No. Now I know it was just a moment of confusion. Maybe I was going through a test. I needed to find you to clarify what I have and what I could have. Father O'Malley gave me your current address, but when I didn't find you there and couldn't contact you, your friend told me you were out of town. I had time to think. I was sure that if I saw you again, I would definitely leave the Order. I was already tempted when you showed up in our orphanage a year ago. But this place - the children needed me. Now it would be different and I know I couldn't resist. But… just like when we were at school, it wouldn't be the right decision."

"Really? Would it really be that bad?" Face asked in an unusually weak voice. A lump in his throat made him unable to speak normally.

"I would be breaking my vows. I don't know if I could live with that. I'm sorry, Templeton."

Face closed his eyes, trying to calm himself. When he had finally licked his wounds from meeting her after all those years and had almost forgotten about her, she appeared in his life again. Why? Was this a divine purpose? Or just a joke? First, God stole his girlfriend, and then He kept sending her into his life over and over so that He could laugh at him all the time…

"Templeton?"

"It's alright, Leslie. It's just… alright," he lied, hoping his voice sounded natural. People almost never knew he wasn't telling the truth. He was perfect at it. Only the few people closest to him could tell sometimes that he was lying. And, suddenly, he wasn't sure if she was or wasn't one of them.

"Forgive me, please. I won't enter your life again, I promise."

"Leslie, wait! I– "

"Goodbye, Templeton. God bless you." She hung up.

Face stared at the receiver in his hand for a moment before slamming it angrily into its cradle. As if in a dream, he ran his hand through his hair and reached for the keys in the ignition, but instead of starting the engine, he buried his face in his palms, taking a deep breath. Too many things had happened in too short a time.

He had enjoyed a well-deserved three-week vacation in Miami. Thanks to a successfully resolved case, they had free hotel accommodation there at any time. Face had been pleased to take this opportunity to clear his head and recover from Murdock's betrayal. He really called it a betrayal, angrily admitting to himself that he was hurt bad when Murdock decided to take that annoyingly joyful blonde to Hawaii.

He had spent so much time preparing Murdock for the Wheel of Fortune, being with him every day, forcing him to memorize all of those frequency tables… and Murdock was very good at that! It was fascinating, given that the crazy pilot hadn't been able to recall at least half a year of his own life. His memory had to work on a different level. And if Face was an expert in numbers and calculations, then Murdock was perfect at vocabulary and playing with words. And his skillful hand, used to controlling the very sensitive cyclic stick of a helicopter, knew exactly how to spin the wheel so he wouldn't go bankrupt.

And what did good old Templeton Peck get in the end? Well, Murdock won a water bed for him, but he had no home to put it in. And he had been looking forward to going to Hawaii! He could already see them both drinking cocktails on the beach surrounded by a group of beautiful Hawaiian girls in swimsuits, which really hid only the essentials. And instead, Murdock went there with that crazy Jody. The girl really went together with their pilot, one crazier than the other, but this just wasn't fair! Was she the one who had worked with him so hard? Had she supported him, pouring coffee into him throughout the whole night so that they could use as much time as possible to teach him all that stuff? No! She just came in at the finish line, smiling adorably at Murdock, and his brain apparently fell to his pants. Was this justice?

Face clenched his fists, remembering those two hopping enthusiastically like lunatics and chattering over what to do first when they got off the plane. He was upset. Terribly angry at her, at Murdock, and at himself for being angry at them. But there was something else behind the rage, something stronger and deeper. Regret. Betrayal. And jealousy. Was he really jealous? After all, he didn't need to beg Murdock to take him along. His conman's skills would get him both a ticket and a room right next to those two, if he wanted that. But would it bring anything good?

Embarrassed, he realized that far more than Hawaii itself, it had been a fun time with Murdock that he wanted so badly. Despite all the crazy things the pilot often did, he was a great companion and Face never got bored with him. He didn't call Murdock his best friend for nothing, right? And he hoped the pilot could say the same about him. But men tended to think with their penis from time to time, and it kind of transcended every friendship. Still, that didn't change the fact that Murdock's decision to go with Jody really hurt him. And after a few days of sitting in his apartment, he decided he needed to get out of town. And he ended up in Miami. When Murdock had the beaches in Hawaii, he could at least enjoy sunny Florida.

He had originally wanted to stay there for a month, but Hannibal recalled him for a new mission. And when he returned, relaxed and determined to forgive Murdock, suddenly everything went completely south.

Face sighed, rubbing his face with his fingers. He shouldn't have yelled at Murdock. And he shouldn't have hit him at all. How had that happened? One minute he was staring into those apologetic chocolate eyes, and the next Murdock was lying on the ground at his feet.

This had never happened to him, he could always control himself perfectly. Had learned the art of keeping his emotions under control, and preferably completely hidden, since the first days in the orphanage. Murdock had somehow gotten over his protective walls and totally pissed him off.

_'Oh boy…'_

Thinking about it, Face realized very quickly why Murdock had acted like that. His perceptive friend must have remembered better than him how the reunion with Leslie had shaken him. And if Murdock sensed why Face's ex-girlfriend was in LA - and Murdock had this damn ability - he decided it would be better not to tell Face about it at all. It was just a coincidence that Face met Father O'Malley. And then Murdock had to tell the truth.

Face knew he should call Murdock, apologize to him. But first he needed to calm down. Even hearing Leslie's voice threw him off balance completely. She had been the only one he really loved. None of the women who had passed through his arms had reached his heart. What had Murdock just said? That he was afraid to love someone again? No, he wasn't. Or at least not that much. He just hadn't met anyone who could equal Leslie.

_'What the hell could that crazy man know, anyway? He has probably never loved anyone so completely. He even broke up with that veterinary girl, and she was the only one who was capable of accepting his complicated personality.'_

Face realized that he didn't even know why the two had broken up. Murdock had never wanted to talk about it, so none of the Team asked. And that blonde Jody Joy… _'No, Temp. You better not think about her or you will get pissed again.'_

He glanced at his watch, frowning. He had been sitting there idly, self-pitying for half an hour. Murdock was right. It was better for him not to meet Leslie again. And it was better for her, too.


	4. Chapter 4

I took a deep breath and ran my hand through my hair. I left my fingers tangled in the strands and closed my eyes, imagining Face. His blue eyes, his smile… that smile that could melt an iceberg.

"Fifteen years - that's too long. I can't bear the desire that grows in me every time I see him, and every time I say goodbye to him. I know I gotta do something or it will eat me alive. But I got no idea what to do. Can't come up with anything. 'specially now when he's mad at me. Yeah, I should have told him about her. Was supposed to go to him and give him the message she left here. What the hell was I thinking? It was obvious that he'd find out she had been here. But I wasn't sure. I got lost between what was right and what was important. What could just hurt him and make him stronger at the same time, and what could kill him right away… and then it was too late. Now I regret it 'cause he's angry. He keeps saying it's okay. Keeps saying that he forgives me. But I know how he feels. I let him down. Betrayed him. Twice in the last month. First that damned trip to Hawaii that he's never gonna forget, and now this… Doc, I got no idea how to fix it. 'Cause without him… without him my life has no value at all. Without him…"

"I'm going to ask you again, Murdock. Have you finally thought about telling him?"

Richter's voice was calm. It always was. The man heard dozens of stories and silly thoughts, broken dreams and desperate memories every day. I didn't know how he managed to keep a cool head with all of that 'cause a lot of shrinks couldn't do it. Sure, he might just be another kind of sociopath who pretended to be a wise and sensible doctor on the outside, but inside he screamed even louder than most of his patients. But I knew Richter was okay. I knew could trust him after all the things that had happened.

For many years he had tried to get the truth out of me about my connection with the A-team, and I had resisted him for just as long. Had been filling our entire sessions talking without telling him anything. And he had known it. He had known I was just jabbering. And he had kept asking me, over and over… in the end it was quite a funny duel. Until he had been kidnapped right before my eyes and I decided I had to get him back. He was my shrink and I needed him! I didn't want to start all over again with someone else. ~~~~

Hannibal had been more than willing to help me, BA had wanted to get rid of me, and Face… in the end, despite all the typical whining and complaining that I had interrupted his very successful date, had agreed too. And Richter… well, he had finally found out the truth in the rainforest of South America. And because we had saved his life, I could count on him to keep my secret. For the first time, I could talk to my shrink. Really talk, not just jabber.

So I had gathered all my courage and confided in him how I felt. He had shocked me by admitting that he had suspected something like that for a long time, but had no idea who was the one who had stolen my heart. Since then, he had tried to convince me that I had to tell Face. But…

"How can I tell him?" I protested. "I can't tell him, Doc. I see him with a different woman every day. He takes them to dinner, then to the theater or for a movie or something. And then always to his apartment or house. And I don't think I need to tell ya that they ain't just watching TV there. Could someone like him love someone like me?" I laughed bitterly, then continued. "In fact, sometimes he takes me with him. Not often, just from time to time. And no, I'm not a fifth wheel, definitely not. He always has a girl for me. They're nice girls. Some of them even try to focus on what I'm tellin' them and not peek at my friend too often. But I guess they might end up in his bed, too. A week, a fortnight after meeting me, who knows. I don't mind that. I talk to them, escort them, and if it's a part of the planned night, I sleep with them. And it ain't that bad. It brings some relief, so to speak. After all, it's the closest way of getting to him, sleep with a girl while he's making love to another one in the next room. Sometimes I can hear him, so I can imagine he's the one under me… And don't say it's perverted. 'Cause my whole life ain't normal. Ya know that, you're my shrink."

He nodded. I didn't know if he meant that he knew it or that I was perverted. It didn't matter anyway.

"And have you ever thought about the possibility that he has so many girls because he doesn't have what he really wants? That he's just trying to fill the gaping hole, waiting for the right person? For you, maybe?"

For the first time during today's session, he said something that I found interesting. I thought about that possibility for a moment. Could it really be so? Maybe… but no, that was absurd. Face had been like that since I knew him. I shook my head.

"You won't find out until you talk to him, Murdock."

"But I can't do that! Have you been listening to me at all? I can't go to him and say what I feel. How could I, after so many years… you know, someone told me a long time ago that what I felt wasn't true love. Everything he said sounded logical. I believed it was true and followed his advice. Started looking at Face as my best friend, trying not to see anything more in him. Sometimes it was pretty hard, but I learned to live with it. In the end, you always learn to live on half a loaf when you can't have all of it. I met a girl…"

"Oh yes, that brunette. I remember her. She used to come to see you very often."

"Yeah. She didn't mind that I was… what I was. She was always so kind and understanding. And beautiful."

I sighed sadly. I did love Kelly. But 'cause I loved her so much, I couldn't stay with her. I couldn't hurt her. Couldn't let her dedicate her life to someone who didn't love her with all his heart. And I didn't. A part of my heart was with Face. It always would be. I knew it, felt it somewhere very deep in me.

"What happened?" Richter interrupted my quiet memories.

"I broke up with her."

"Because of him?"

"Yeah. I realized that I've been lying to myself all the time. That no one else will ever be enough for me. 'Cause he's the one I really, truly want."

"Then he really should know, don't you think?"

"No! Uhm… yes, but… I can't go to him and just tell him. I just… can't."

"Well, if you can't, then you can't. What about someone else from the Team? Despite your constant bickering, I feel like Baracus appointed himself your big brother."

I laughed. Probably a bit hysterically. "The Big Guy?" I said when I finally caught my breath. "Yeah, BA likes me, even if he's gonna rip my head off for saying it aloud. But confide in him about something like that? Oh no, no no no. At best, he'd scold me for jibbering bullshit. At the worst…" I didn't really know what would happen at worst. And I wasn't sure if I wanted to know that. BA might be disgusted. Yes, he would certainly be very disgusted, and he might never talk to me again. The Big Guy had never wanted to hear about stuff like that. Kinda understandable in my case, though.

"What about the Colonel? He seems like a reasonable guy, maybe he could give you advice."

"Doc, even crazy little me ain't that insane," I shook my head. "If it was anyone outside the Team, then maybe - but really just MAYBE. But I can't confess that I love someone inside his team. The team made up of only men. And don't you know the saying 'don't shit where you eat'? He'd never let me go into action with Face again, and I'd be even more abandoned than I am now. No, that is really out of the question." I sighed. "You know what happens to people in the army with the same feelings I have, right?"

"But you're not in the army anymore," he pointed out as if I didn't know that.

"No, I'm not. But the Colonel… it's just impossible."

"You know, you would be surprised at how often people react differently than we expect," he said, giving me room to think about it. But there was nothing to think about here. I knew Hannibal. So when I never answered, Richter nodded calmly. "All right. But then tell me how do you want to deal with your situation?"

I straightened sharply, gazing into his eyes. Was he kidding? No, he asked me deadly seriously. It upset me.

"You're gonna tell me, you're my shrink! I'm just a nutcase who doesn't know what to do. I've been pouring my heart out for an hour here and you, just YOU, gotta tell me what to do! You're paid for it!"

"Murdock," he said, using a patient tone I didn't like. "Even I can't know everything, whether I'm your doctor or not, and whether I'm paid for it or I'm just doing it out of love for my job. This is your issue, only you can solve it. And either you will think that I'm wrong and wait to see what happens and be eaten by it until your death, or you will raise your head and go to deal with it. But I can't tell you what to do about it because you know that yourself."

"No! I don't–"

"Yes, you do. You know very well what you should do. What you have to do. And the only reason you haven't done it yet is your fear. When you admit it, when you decide to put an end to it, then you will find the strength to get up and go to him. But until then, no one can help you. Only you can do that."

I opened my mouth, but before I could say anything, my eyes filled with tears. Those words were a death sentence for my love. 'Cause I knew I couldn't do that.

I wasn't afraid to fly, not even in birds in bad shape. I wasn't afraid to fight, not even when I went on a mission where there was a slim chance of getting out in one piece. I wasn't afraid to tease BA, that grumbling giant covered in gold who often threatened me with his fists. But the idea that I should appear before Face, look into his beautiful, ocean blue eyes and confess to my feelings; that scared me to death. Scared of what would follow. He rejected me once before. He never said anything about that night in 'Nam, but he certainly remembered it. And if I tried again… he'd probably start avoiding me.

"You know what, Murdock? Don't think about it too much. And don't push it. Focus on something else. Sing as usual. Play with Billy. It's a nice sunny day, you can take your dog to the garden. I'm sure the nurses will let you go out. And you'll see that if you don't think about it, the resolution will suddenly come by itself. Believe me, people are often afraid of things that won't happen at all and they spend half their lives in a completely useless nightmare. And even if the worst happens in the end, at least you will no longer be afraid of it. And I'll be here for you to help you get through it. Okay?"

"But I need help now," I said in a weak, trembling voice. I hoped he would have mercy on me, holding my hand and taking me… where? Where could he actually take me? To Face? Tell him everything instead of me? No, he really couldn't do anything for me…

"Sure, you need help. But only you can help yourself, Murdock."

I sniffed. He was right.

"Now go to the garden. Sit in the sun, listen to the birds, play with Billy and you'll see you'll feel better. And if you still feel bad in the evening, ask the nurse about the yellow pills. I'll tell them to have them ready for you. And I'll visit you tomorrow. I'm going on vacation, but I can do it on my way to the airport. Just promise me that you won't let yourself slip into depression. Do you understand me?"

I didn't answer.

"Do you understand, Murdock?"

Still kept my mouth shut.

"Murdock, could you promise me that? Don't make me take unnecessary measures and tell the orderlies to take you to the padded room. You're not crazy enough to need it, I know you're not. But I will have no choice if…"

"I promise," I muttered, my fingers crossed behind my back. Just to be sure.

But a few days later, the whole world turned red…

***

It was all around me. I was lost in it, drowning in the red flood, stumbling through the red mist, feeling my own willpower slowly leave me. It reminded me of Khe Sanh, where my bird had been shot down and I had gotten a nasty crack on the head in the crash. But I hadn't been alone at that time. The whole team had been with me. Face had taken a bullet in his leg back then. And I had gotten a splitting headache for the next two days.

But ya know, physical pain is a fleeting thing. It's just the strumming of your body on the strings of your nerve synapses. Mental pain is far worse 'cause it doesn't subside. It devours you, poisons your mind. Fear, despair and loneliness can take all your strength, beat you to the ground. You can't push them aside. You can't shout them down nor mute them with a volume button. And if ya think the docs might help…

Jeez, they gave me some pills. I didn't know what they were, I didn't remember ever having them before. And I didn't ask.

You wanna know why? 'Cause I hate drugs, that's why. Take them when I feel I have to and tolerate the state of blindness and deafness into which they get me. But only in case of extreme emergency.

There was an extreme emergency that night and I didn't even have to ask for the extra pills. They gave them to me after I had been screaming hysterically in tears in my room for a while, refusing to climb out from under the desk.

I shouldn't have taken them. But had no choice. If I hadn't swallowed them voluntarily, they would have given me a shot, which would be even worse. Fighting with them would have earned me a nice voucher for a chic, white jacket.

Kinda tight outfit for my taste if you wanna know. Yeah, believe me, if you have to sit in it for more than half an hour, you will find this piece of clothing pretty uncomfortable.

So I swallowed the offered drugs without fighting and waited for merciful numbness, a gray-white mist covering my mind and soothing all the pain under its suffocating blanket. But instead of that I smelled blood and the scent of fear and emptiness and had a metallic taste in my mouth. The red circles were dancing before my eyes; crimson flowers blooming into my entire field of vision, gradually blackening into bottomless darkness… I tried to raise my hand to pound on the door. Tried that really hard, though I wasn't sure if it was going to do any good at all.

Too many people had beaten against the door with their hands, feet, and heads too many times during the dark nights… what would my one or two bangs be compared to the drum concert from the others…

I wanted to scream, but I couldn't. My throat felt tight, my tongue metallic and dry. I couldn't make it… just couldn't... losing consciousness… the last thing I saw was my hand sliding down on the door, leaving a blood-red smudge there.

I was falling… swaying on lazy, dying waves in the dark… and in that dark red depth where the rays of the warm sun never reach, I could suddenly hear a voice… it was very soft and muffled… I tried to catch it. Tried to understand what it was saying but it was too far away. So I dodged it, not wanting to hear anything. Didn't want to know anything…

"Hey buddy, can you hear me? Wake up… Come on… Open those big brown eyes of yours and look at me… Please, don't leave me now…"

It was insistent, fighting its way to me and could no longer be ignored. I knew that voice. Words didn't make sense to me, couldn't catch them, but I could hear him. His frightened, urgent tone and I couldn't... I couldn't leave him. I fought the darkness… too weak and woozy, having no strength… but I could follow his voice. It led me through the darkness and I really tried to find him… it was so hard, so very hard…

"Shit! Don't do this to me, Murdock! For God's sake, please, stay here with me…"

I opened my eyes… just a little 'cause the light was too sharp, my eyelids were too heavy… and I was looking right into his face.

Everything was blurred and foggy at first, but then the colors and shapes merged into each other and I could see his blue eyes looking at me in pure horror. I saw his lips moving and heard his voice but nothing he said made sense. My brain seemed to be in some other place than my body was, and the distance was too long to transmit information between them. But maybe…

"This can't be Hell when you're here," I whispered hoarsely. My throat was covered with sandpaper, not allowing me to swallow. And the closer I came to the real world, the sharper the pain I felt. Something was eating my right hand. "But it can't be Heaven either 'cause it hurts so bad."

"You're not dead. Thank God you're not. I thought… I was afraid you would never wake up," Face said softly, a rare and somehow unbecoming tear streaming down his cheek. I longed to touch it, wiped that tiny, unique diamond on his skin, but I couldn't move my hand. I raised my head weakly, looking at my arms. Both tied tightly to the hospital bed, one with an IV stuck in it, the other bandaged with a bright white bandage. I frowned. What the hell was that?

"Why did you do that?" He asked me. I stared at him, baffled. What had I done? I didn't remember. "Did… did you really want to kill yourself? Tell me why, Murdock?"

I was silent. Had no idea what he was talking about.

"They told me not to ask you that. It might upset you. But I know you're not crazy. Not really, not the way they think. Or am I wrong? Are you really crazy, Murdock? Please don't give me a reason to think you really are."

"I'm thirsty," I said instead of answering. I didn't know the answer. Didn't even care. My actual problem was my throat. Even if I wanted to say anything else, I wouldn't stand a chance. I'd definitely start coughing and you really didn't want to do that when your sore hand was tied to the bed.

Sympathy flashed across his face and he reached out to the bedside table without a word. He filled a plastic cup halfway with water from a plastic jug, putting it carefully to my lips so as not to spill it on me. I emptied it completely, my eyes pleading for more. He understood, refilled the cup and put it to my lips again. And then again, twice, until I felt it was enough.

Exhausted, I laid my head back on the pillow. Some water ran down my chin and he pulled his clean, ironed handkerchief out of his jacket pocket and wiped it gently. I muttered a quiet thankyou.

He stepped back, watching me with his arms crossed over his stomach, waiting.

"Dunno," I said in a slightly stronger voice.

"What don't you know?"

"Don't know what happened. I remember… uh… everything is so blurry…" I shook my head.

I remembered the pain. The mental pain that I couldn't tell him about 'cause he was its instigator. Remembered how desperately I had needed him, missing him so badly… and I had been afraid he would never come to see me again. But could I tell him that? Didn't think so.

"Guess, I may have had one of my fits. I must have been screaming 'cause they came to give me some pills. And that's all. Remember nothing after that."

"But… you had your last fit like that… hell, it's been couple of years already. What caused it, buddy?"

I could see the worry in his eyes and I wished I could tell him the truth. Then his expression changed. His eyes widened and he stroked his shirt with his palm unknowingly.

"It was the quarrel, wasn't it? Is that what upset you?"

I bit my lips at the memory of that day and he knew he had hit the nail on the head. Shaking his head, he bent it to his chest. Then ran his hand across his face, gently massaging his temples with his fingers. I knew he was thinking so I waited quietly.

"I shouldn't have yelled at you. Shouldn't have hit you," he said after a moment without raising his head.

"Look at me and say it again."

He looked up. Shit… I didn't like the way he was looking at me.

"I didn't mean to do that, but can you imagine how I felt at that moment? I felt like I could never trust you again."

"You can still trust me!" I blurted out. I felt tears well up in my eyes. He noticed, but as if shielding himself from his own feelings, the coldness began to spread out from his body.

"I'm not sure if I can believe that. You don't seem to know what you're doing lately. Murdock, do you even know what reality is?"

"Of course, I do!" I jerked, forgetting my hands secured to the bed and hissed in pain as the strap tightened around my injured wrist, but immediately turned my attention back to Face. "It's just last night I don't remember."

He looked sadly at my bandaged hand, firmly tied to the bed, and shook his head.

"Yeah. And you did this."

"You think… oh… you really don't trust me." Although I tried to control my emotions, my face betrayed me, exposing my personal feelings to the eyes of the whole world. Or at least to the pair of blue eyes of the man standing beside me, my best friend who was convinced that his good old buddy had turned into an insane suicider. But I wasn't an insane suicider… or was I? Couldn't remember last night. Which meant Face might be right. Maybe I really didn't know what reality was.

"I'm sorry, Murdock, but I just don't get it! You've been fine for so many years, or at least within your limitations! And then I come here and find you in this condition! Tied up like a madman, with your wrist cut by your own hand! Should I believe you don't know why you did it? Or is it normal for you to try to slash your wrists just for fun? It doesn't seem normal or fun to me. I've found you in a miserable state many times but you still were the last person I would expect to do that. Despite your diagnosis and the fact that you've been locked up in this… uh… this hospital for so many years."

"Say it," I hissed, suddenly feeling angry. I knew very well what he had wanted to say before he stopped, and even though I didn't mind at other times, it was a punch to the gut now. Just for fun. Hell, why not, right?

"What?"

"Just say what ya meant to say, Faceman. 'Cause yes, I live in a loony bin. But that's also why I don't deserve you to talk to me like that! 'Cause I got no idea what happened last night and why the hell I'm tied to a bed! And you know very well that I wouldn't lie. Never told a lie to you or anyone else."

"Oh, really? And what was that a few days ago?"

"I wasn't lying! I just kept something to myself. And I didn't even do that 'cause in the end I told ya everything."

"Yeah, you did. But too late!"

"Why did you come here, Face? To yell at me again? Then you better say nothing." I paused for a moment, sighing. "Ya know, one of the things I like 'bout us is that we've never argued. Not in a nasty way. And this looks nasty." I shook my head. "We've always respected each other. Can we keep doing that? Just talk to me like my friend or leave me alone 'cause something must have exploded inside my head and blown away the last few hours and I'm having trouble finding them. And you ain't helping much."

"Murdock, I…" he fell silent, leaving the unfinished sentence hanging in the air. I waited for him to continue, but instead of saying another word, he gave me one last unreadable look and hurried out of the room.

Screaming was the only thing I could do. They hadn't gagged me. So I screamed. One or two angry screams. Then I stopped. Didn't want them to come.

I thought frantically with tears in my eyes. Had Face ever turned his back on me? I couldn't remember. He had always stood by me, holding me tight when I got lost in my madness. It hadn't been so often in recent years. Nearly zero.

What had changed during those years that Face was able to leave me? I didn't understand that. Didn't understand anything at all.

I was getting stiff and really wanted to turn on my side, curl up in a ball. Jeez, I'd give BA's Van for the opportunity to change position at least a little. But the tight straps allowed me almost no movement. Why the hell was I lying here like that? Why did I have that damned IV thrust into my vein? What had I done?

I wanted to start screaming again but I knew it would be a terribly bad idea. Here in the nuthouse it certainly couldn't help me to start making a scene. So all I could do was wait for someone to come; lie still, alone with my screaming thoughts…


	5. Chapter 5

Face darted out of the building and stopped when he was in the middle of the sidewalk; far enough away from that small, sterile room, far enough from his tied, broken friend. He leaned forward, placing his hands on his knees and leaning on them. His breathing was rapid. Not because he had been running, but because he was upset. He saw Murdock again right there in his mind, with that bandage on his wrist and straps around his limbs.

He had seen him like that before - well, without that fucking bandage, of course - and always hoped it was for the last time. But he was always wrong. Finding Murdock in that condition again, after all these years when the pilot seemed to be doing better, was too much.

Face knew that running away would not help his friend. On the contrary, it was probably the worst thing he could do to him at the moment. But he couldn't help it. He couldn't stand to see him like that again.

_'I'm too weak to hold him together this time.'_

"Sir, are you all right?"

Startled, Face looked up and met the caring gaze of a cute little blonde.

"Oh, yes… I just… yeah, I think I am," he stuttered out, straightening quickly. "I just need to sit down for a while." He pointed to one of the wooden benches in the small park in front of the hospital.

"Should I go with you?" She offered, and he studied her more closely. She carried a bag with a snow-white ironed nurse's uniform. Apparently she was just heading to work for her daily shift.

"No, I'm fine, really. But thank you, anyway," Face shook his head and began stumbling to the bench. The nurse watched him for a moment, hesitant to leave him alone, but as he sat up with his head tilted back to look into the treetop, she decided he would be fine.

As soon as the blonde woman disappeared from his sight, Face curled up, buried his face in his hands. _'What the hell is wrong with me?'_ It wasn't like him to let such a pretty woman leave like that. But at the moment, he really wasn't able to think properly. The picture of Murdock was still flashing in his head, taking him back twelve years, to a time when Murdock wasn't exactly Murdock.

_It was around his fourth visit to the VA. He had just left the elevator and gone past the empty front desk into the hall to Murdock's room, when he unexpectedly walked into what was almost a horror scene; four orderlies hung on to Murdock, trying to drag him down the hall, out of his room. The pilot, his fists covered in blood where he had hammered tirelessly on the wall, tried to flail around with his arms, twisting and flinching to break himself free, and screaming at the top of his lungs in a frantic hysterical fit._

_Face stopped, standing there stiffly and watching the frightening scene with his mouth open. He recognized Vietnamese, but didn't understand what Murdock was yelling. His heart ached when his friend suddenly turned his reddened face to him, his wide, frantic eyes shining with rage and despair. He knew that look. He knew it from documentary movies about trapped wild animals fighting for their lives. But the worst thing was that Murdock didn't recognize him at all._

_The pilot turned away from him without interest and knocked the smallest of the orderlies to the ground with his bloody fist. This was probably the last straw, because the others flung him to the ground and finally pulled him around the corner. Then a nurse emerged from the same place, hurrying to the front desk._

_"I'm sorry, sir, we had a little problem with one of our patients. What can I do for you?" She asked as she reached Face._

_"Uh… I… what happened?"_

_"Just a minor hysterical fit. Nothing we can't handle."_

_A minor hysterical fit? Face stared at her in disbelief. He had experienced Murdock's minor hysterical fits and they certainly looked different. Murdock definitely hadn't had his fists covered in blood, and he had always recognized him._

_"Sir? Did you come to see someone?" The nurse asked in a slightly stronger voice. He realized that he was still staring at her dumbly, so he shook his head quickly, trying to clear his thoughts._

_"Yes. I did. I… uh…" he pointed in the direction in which the fighting group had disappeared._

_"Oh, you came to see Mr. Murdock." The nurse nodded understandingly._ _"Well, I'm afraid he's not in a condition to accept any visitors right now."_

_"What happened to him?"_

_"He got a visit. Some Colonel came here and…"_

_"Colonel?" Face interrupted her. "Is he still here? What was his name?"_

_"I think it was something like Lench or Lunch."_

_"Lynch?"_

_"Yes, that could be right."_

_"Is he still here?!" All of Face's muscles tensed, as if he was about to take flight at any moment. However, the nurse shook her head._

_"We made him leave as soon as Mr. Murdock went on the rampage. You know, with his PTSD, seeing a man in uniform probably doesn't do him any good. Actually, I didn't even want to let the Colonel into Mr. Murdock's room, but he had an order from their headquarters. Something about some escaped prisoners, I don't know exactly what it was."_

_"And Murdock - he started acting like that?"_

_"Yes. I stayed close to Mr. Murdock's room because I expected there could be some problems. It seemed that everything would be fine, though. I heard him laugh and shout some movie quotes. But then the tone of his voice changed and he started screaming, and finally switched to some foreign language. At first I thought he was just yelling some nonsense, but one of the orderlies recognized Vietnamese. And we were already trying to get the Colonel out of the room, because Mr. Murdock was getting very aggressive, pounding his fists on the wall furiously."_

_Face sighed. Lynch must have been here because of him. He was apparently asking Murdock about things that were stressing him. So it was Face's fault that this happened._

_"What are you going to do with him?" He asked, looking towards the corner of the hall where his friend had disappeared._

_"Well," she seemed to be wondering what she could tell him. "_ _We need to calm him down so he's going to get some sedatives. His hands need to be treated and we…" she paused, then continued a little uncertainly, "we have to prevent him from injuring himself even more."_

_"I guess I couldn't see him now, could I?"_

_The nurse shook her head resolutely. Face put on his best pleading expression, even though he knew Murdock was a bit better at that with those chocolate puppy eyes. But she hesitated, so he pushed a little harder._

_"I just want to make sure he's okay."_

_"He's going to be all right, Mr..."_

_"Roberts. Michael Roberts."_

_"He's going to be all right, Mr. Roberts."_

_"But… could I see him? Just for a minute at least? Please?"_

_She bit her lips as she thought frantically, so he gave a very sad sigh and her face finally softened._

_"Okay. But only through the door window. Come with me."_

_He followed her, and though he was sure he didn't want to see what they were doing to Murdock right now, he needed to make sure his friend was okay. He peered nervously through the small door window, pressing his hand to his stomach automatically._

_Murdock was strapped to a bed. He thrashed about trying to get free, yelling something in Vietnamese. A stern-looking nurse was just trying to inject a sedative into his right hand and Murdock became even wilder. He yanked at the straps, jerking himself until his movements slowed down and the effort to free himself came only in a vague shiver that stopped over time. At that moment, another of the nurses approached him and began to examine his bloodied hands carefully. Murdock didn't care anymore. His head resting on the bed was swinging slowly from side to side with an empty and distant look in his eyes._

_Face turned away, feeling really sick._

_"Come on, I'll give you a glass of water," the nurse offered when she saw his face turn pale. But he couldn't move, he didn't trust his own legs. Finally, she gently took his elbow and Face followed her, feeling a little stupefied as if he had been drugged himself._

_He knew the doctors would take care of Murdock, but seeing him tied to the bed like that, so broken and defeated — it was almost the same as seeing him beaten in the prison camp. The fact that it was for his own good in this case didn't change the sick feeling._

_Face was led to the reception area, where he gratefully accepted a plastic cup of pleasantly cold water._

_"Are you a good friend of Mr. Murdock?"_

_It took him a moment to realize that the nurse was asking him something. He nodded._

_"It must be hard for you to see him like that. But they'll take care of him, and he'll be fine again." She sighed to herself. "That darned war destroyed a lot of people; I see it every day."_

_"Tell me about it," he muttered, the plastic cup still pressed against his lips. She fixed her large blue-green eyes on him with interest._

_"Were you there?"_

_He nodded._

_"With him?" The nurse pointed toward the hall they came from a minute ago. He hesitated for a moment, wondering how much he could say._

_"He was a chopper pilot. I flew with him several times," he replied vaguely._

_"I'm sorry your friend is so bad now, Mr. Roberts," she said softly and took his hand encouragingly. "Or can I call you Michael?"_

_He nodded again. "Thank you, Miss Norris."_

_"Silvia," she corrected him, smiling._

_"Thank you, Silvia."_

Face sighed. Again, he felt a little guilty for spending the night with that nurse from Murdock's ward, while Murdock was probably still drugged, lying with his limbs strapped tightly to the bed. She told him that he had broken two fingers on his left hand during the rage.

But sex always helped Face relax and get rid of the all terrifying images that had been haunting him.

Maybe he should really have used the interest of that nurse hurrying to work to calm himself down after that horrible experience. But he had been so shocked that he had found Murdock in the same condition again as in the beginning, if not worse, because what were two broken fingers against his friend now trying to slash his wrists? And it was all probably his, Face's, fault. If only he hadn't yelled at him, if he hadn't punched him... _oh boy_... Face shuddered at the thought that Murdock might have been able to finish what he was trying to do. That the crazy, optimistic and spontaneous pilot suddenly wouldn't be here anymore and all because of him.

"Oh Murdock, what have I done to you," he whispered to himself, rubbing his temples. He was getting a headache and felt sick to his stomach. He would have to stop in at the drugstore on the way home, and then probably take the rest of the day off. He sighed again when he realized that he would have to tell Hannibal about Murdock.

Face rose very slowly, afraid his head would spin, but everything seemed fine. With a worried look, he headed toward the parking lot to his Vette.


	6. Chapter 6

"Mr. Murdock, I really can't help you if you don't let me."

The young, freshly graduated shrink with high cheekbones looked at me over the desk almost in a fatherly manner. I didn't believe that caring look of his. What was such a rookie doing in a veteran's hospital anyway? With his innocent face, he could have no idea what life was all about. And I definitely didn't want to share my life with him. Not because he was too young, don't get me wrong. But he was a stranger. So I kept sitting on the brown leather couch in his office, staring stubbornly at my sneakers. They were unusually clean, dust-free. Maybe because I hadn't been getting out much lately.

"I don't want to talk to you." I shook my head.

"And do you have a reason for that?"

"Yes. You ain't my shrink. I wanna talk to Dr. Richter."

"Your doctor is not here, Mr. Murdock. I already told you. He'll be back in two weeks. Until then you have me. You'll have to come to terms with it."

"I don't have to. Ain't going to talk to you. You don't know me at all." I scratched the white bandage on my hand automatically. The skin beneath was uncomfortably itchy.

"I have your entire file. I can find everything I need to know about you there. But of course it would be more pleasant for both of us to hear it directly from you. You can see for yourself that you need help. What you did last night definitely requires the attention of a psychiatrist."

"I did nothing."

"So what is wrong with your hand?"

"I got no idea."

"Oh, really? Are you lying to me or to yourself now?"

For the first time, I really looked at him. "I don't need to lie. I DID NOTHING!" I spelled out the words very carefully, sure of what I was saying. If I really had done what everyone kept telling me, it must have been when I was out of my mind. And since I couldn't understand what would have led me to such an act, I couldn't claim responsibility for it.

I didn't remember anything at all. I didn't know how I had felt. I didn't know what I had done. I didn't know that I had tried to slash my wrist. I didn't remember that, so I hadn't done it. Maybe it was some other part of me, someone who was hidden inside my head and for some reason got out. But in that case, it wasn't me. Not my conscious Self. Because I really could remember what I was doing for the last few years. I couldn't those first months when I came back from 'Nam. I was a mess and had no idea what was happening to me and around me at the time. I vaguely remembered they had been giving me some strong drugs that… uhm… I felt damned sick when they gave them to me.

"All right, Mr. Murdock. If you didn't do anything, then how do you explain the bandaged hand to me? Why did the orderlies have to tie you to the bed?"

I tried to put together all those small fragments of the whole jigsaw puzzle, of which I was missing a significant part. It had to be the… "The drugs. Those pills they brought me last night. They must have caused it." I said my thoughts aloud.

"You were given some extra sedatives because you were restless. Nothing that could hurt you," he shook his head in a way that suggested I was talking bullshit.

"Restless? Is that what you call it?" I laughed ironically. That really amused me. A dog that scents a hare is restless. A person waiting for a delayed bus to work is restless. A baby that needs the mother's breast is restless. I was mad. But not mad enough to do what they thought I had done.

"You're not making it easy for me at all, Mr. Murdock," he reprimanded me again with his fatherly caring expression. He was starting to annoy me with his constant need to call me 'Mr. Murdock', as if trying to indicate to me that because he knew my name, he knew everything about me.

"I told you I didn't want to talk to you."

"But you should. You have a problem that needs to be solved. If you keep it to yourself and do not share it, it will only get worse and bother you even more. I think you know that very well. You've been here long enough to find out for yourself. So why don't you let me help you with it?"

"'Cause I'll only talk to my shrink."

"I already told you that Dr. Richter-"

"I know he ain't here!" I snapped indignantly, making him raise an eyebrow in surprise. "I'm gonna talk to him when he comes back. Until then, leave me alone, will ya? I wanna go to bed. I'm tired."

"You're upset."

"Jeez! What kind of psychiatrist are you? Of course I'm upset!" I shouted at him, throwing my hands in the air. "Don't try to tell me you wouldn't be upset if someone kept tellin' ya that ya tried to kill yourself without you rememberin' it, okay? I'm crazy, but not in that way!" I started off the couch, leapt toward his desk, and leaned over it. I felt sharp pain in my right hand as I leaned against the tabletop, but I ignored it.

"Look me at me, Doc. Look straight into my eyes and tell me if they're the eyes of a suicider! Tell me that I could kill myself willingly or intentionally after fightin' for life in 'Nam! After all those moments when I wanted to live so bad, even though I was beaten, tortured and starving to death. And if you can't say that, then you can clearly see why I don't wanna talk to you. You don't know me, you're not my attending doctor and I don't have to tell ya anything! I don't have to tell anything to anyone at all 'cause who would listen to me? I'm just a howling nutcase, an insane guy who wants to kill himself with a shard from a broken window, ooooh God, how crazy I am! Maybe right now my invisible dog is sneaking around ya to bite off your big toe! And maybe I could jump over the desk so you could show me what I really wanted to do to myself. And maybe-"

The office door was flung open and several orderlies burst into the room. The doctor didn't even blink, he just stared at me the whole time, never looked away. He didn't widen his nostrils, didn't move his lips. He did nothing to provoke me, to warn me, to scare me - they never did anything like that. Not when they were convinced that they were dealing with a real madman and that they were right. And he was sure he was right.

Four guys in white jumped me and immobilized me within seconds.

You can be a trained soldier, you can be one of the action heroes, you can be Woody Woodpecker, but trust me, they know how to nail you to the ground. You can't stop them from doing that. They catch you, grip you tightly, stuff you into a straitjacket. Just for your own good, for your safety 'cause you could hurt yourself. Yes, you might hurt yourself and they would have it in their records. Do you think they're interested in you and your problems? Maybe. Maybe some of them are. But the others, most of them… hell, it's their job, they don't do it for ya, they do it for themselves. And they know their job. They know it damn well. They always know how to do it.

"I'm disappointed in you, Mr. Murdock," the omniscient genius remarked as the orderlies pushed me through the door.

"Well, Doc, I'm not disappointed at all. Didn't expect anythin' from ya," I hissed at him, and once we were out of his sight, I followed those white coats obediently. No fight, no resistance, no yelling. I just wanted to be as far away from him as possible.

***

I hummed a randomly selected melody softly, without even knowing who the song belonged to, and stared into the white padded wall absently. I hated this room. It was so white, so bare and sterile… it had to be so we couldn't hurt ourselves there.

You can't smash your head against the wall, no matter how much you want to.

And believe me, you would like to do it 'cause your eyes are aching from the bright, white walls after a very short while and the sharp, impersonal light shines so coldly, freezing you, causing goosebumps on your sweaty skin under the straitjacket, and you can do nothing about it. Absolutely nothing…

If I can tell ya somethin', don't shout here. Never! 'Cause those damned white walls are still nothing compared to what they can do to ya when you're screaming and they come for ya.

That's why I'm always singing.

When you sing, it's okay. Yeah, you're crazy, but you ain't mad, you ain't self-destructive, ya know.

So I hummed, my head and legs swaying to the rhythm spontaneously, trying to ignore the itchy bandage wrapped around my arm. I tried to ignore everything.

Immersed in that melodic trance, I almost missed the soft sound made by the door sliding on the rubber floor. I raised my head curiously. It was too early for them to come for me. And I hadn't screamed to get them to run in here to give me another shot.

My eyes widened in surprise as I recognized the figure coming through the door.

Without a word, Hannibal walked across the cell, sat down on the floor next to me, and leaned comfortably against the padded wall. He looked around and said in a conversational tone, "Well, it's not very homely here."

"I forgot to pay the rent," I replied. He grinned amusedly, looking at me.

"How you doin', Captain?"

I tilted my head to one side and then to the other. "I've had better days."

"What happened to put you here?" He realized how stupid the question was, and waved his hand around the tiny room. "I mean, right here. Right now."

I took a breath, then bit my lower lip. "Did Faceman send you?"

"Do you think I need someone to send me here? We all care about you, Murdock."

"Yeah, I know," I whispered, digging the toe of my sneaker into the rubber floor stubbornly, as if that was the most important activity I could do just then.

"Can you talk about it?"

I shook my head, my eyes fixed on my feet.

"And could you at least tell me why not?" His voice was soft and caring. He didn't use that tone often; in fact I hadn't heard him talk like that for years.

I looked up at him, and his usually sharp and Jazz-filled eyes looked at me with real interest and care. For a second, I wanted to tell him everything; how desperate I'd been lately, feeling like I was living away from the Team, away from Face.

I had become aware of that when I was shot a year ago. At that moment, in a fever and with the thought that I might really die, I had realized how much I had been missing something in my life. I just had had no idea how specific that 'something' was. I had searched. I had thought about it whole days and nights. I had changed my personality from time to time to try to discover it, but I still hadn't known. Everything I had been doing wasn't enough. Not even a fresh new love could have drowned out the deep-rooted feeling. But when that woman, Face's old ex-girlfriend, had showed up and I had ended up arguing with my best friend about her…

You can suddenly see how easily everything you love can slip through your fingers. And what can someone like me, someone living locked up, do?

I eventually came to like my little room in the VA and got used to living there but… was it a real home?

I almost opened my mouth to tell Hannibal all of that, but then I just bit my lip hard again. I could feel the fine skin cracking under my teeth and the metallic taste of blood appeared on the tip of my tongue. I couldn't say that. The Colonel was a proud army man, an old school guy. I could hardly expect him to understand and accept it. I dodged his piercing gaze guiltily.

"You know, it took me a lot of time to convince them to let me in. I had to pretend to be an old family doctor of yours and make them sure I wouldn't upset you. I reckon that someone is standing right outside the door all the time, waiting for your scream, ready to drag me out and drug you into oblivion again." He paused, giving me room to say something. I was quiet. Didn't know what to say. He cleared his throat and continued patiently. "This is exactly how it looked when I first visited you. You didn't go back to the beginning, did you?"

He put his hand on my shoulder and continued to look at me with the forgiving expression that he would probably use when talking to his child if he had one.

"No. Not really," I replied, my eyes fixed on the floor again. "I just… just don't know."

He nodded understandingly, though I had no idea what he might have understood when I didn't say anything. He tightened his grip on my shoulder for a moment to reassure me he was standing by me.

"Well, if you change your mind about talking or need anything–"

"Get me out of here," I whispered, raising my head quickly. He looked at me intently. I could feel his ice blue eyes trying to read something in mine. Felt him studying my face in detail, any little twitch, my every breath.

"I thought you felt at home here," he replied hesitantly.

"Only when Richter's here. And only when…" I shook my head and dropped the rest of the sentence. "Please take me out of here, Hannibal. For at least a fortnight. Or even a week would be enough. I need… I need to get some fresh air before Richter comes back."

He scanned me with his gaze again for a very long time.

"Are you sure about that, Captain? I mean… in this state…"

"Exactly because I'm in this state. Please!"

"Well, it won't be easy. After what you've done, they're gonna watch you like a hawk."

"Done nothing," I mumbled unhappily.

He nodded. He seemed to trust me, though again I didn't understand how he came to that conclusion. And I didn't care. He trusted me and I trusted him, believing that if I asked him, he wouldn't refuse.

"Okay. I need to go to Detroit. I thought I would fly there alone, but maybe we could take a trip by car." He thought about it for a while and then nodded. "Yeah. We could all use some vacation time. We can make a detour and stop in Kansas City. You always wanted to enjoy Dorothy's Kansas, didn't you?" Thinking, he pulled a cigar from his pocket. Smoking was prohibited in the hospital, but it never stopped Hannibal.

"Face doesn't like long road trips," I said.

"Face doesn't like a lot of things," he waved his hand, grinning. "But he will pick you up. Be ready." He patted my shoulder and stood up.

I watched him leave. He called through the door for them to let him out. Like in prison. As if I was dangerous, not only to myself, but to everyone else. With a sigh, I leaned against the soft wall and closed my eyes. I had nothing to do but wait…


End file.
